


we love in slow motion

by mostlikelydefinentlymad



Series: you're the closest thing to holy  that I've ever held in the palm of my hand [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Bucky Barnes Feels, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Steve Rogers Feels, Stucky - Freeform, no civil war, steve rogers writes poetry, stucky poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-02
Updated: 2016-03-02
Packaged: 2018-05-24 06:49:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6145108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mostlikelydefinentlymad/pseuds/mostlikelydefinentlymad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>we love in slow motion<br/>freeze frame kisses and steady tempo as we shuffle our feet<br/>and you teach me how to dance with a hurricane<br/>(that's you) </p><p>[Steve Rogers poetry post CA:WS]<br/>Darling, hurt me if you can't help it. Hurt me on the days where you forget who I am and I'll hold you when it ends and we'll start over<br/>We're so good at that</p>
            </blockquote>





	we love in slow motion

**Poetry by Steven G. Rogers**

**[2016]**

**1.** Last night I woke up with your knee in my back and every bony outline against my bare skin and I thought to myself

_How often did I long for this? How many years did I dream of you?_

It hurt but not nearly as much as sleeping alone, not nearly as much as cold sheets and even colder coffee

 _Darling,_ I said, whispering with only the moon hearing my still voice

 _Darling I can feel you and sometimes it hurts,_ I confessed; eyes shuttered against the darkness and the steady ache of you at my back

You shifted in your sleep; back now resting against my own and I counted the steady breaths you took until I fell asleep

_Darling, hurt me if you can't help it. Hurt me on the days where you forget who I am and I'll hold you when it ends and we'll start over_

_We're so good at that_

 

 **2.** _I'd like to build a flower garden,_ you said on a stormy afternoon in October **  
**

_I have a thumb as dark as night,_ I said - life and I always seem to be at odds with one another

_We'll plant sunflowers that are taller than you. No, nevermind that. I keep forgetting, I'm sorry. I keep forgetting_

There are times when the sky isn't inky enough or the stars don't shine as brightly as they should and you falter

as if you should know this by now, should plant new memories where old ones once grew and lean against them for stability

it is then that I kiss your forehead and the next day we haunt plant nurseries like ghosts with green thumbs

_We'll hang them from the ceiling and name them after Van Gogh and his perfect vase of twelve sunflowers_

On a Tuesday, we bought flowers

 

 **3.** _It's Friday, we should make a cake_

When you've looked death in the face often enough that you've memorized the crows nest around her eyes and the permanent frown on her lips

you learn to celebrate the small things like the air in his lungs and dirty sheets in the washer _(this is where we loved)_

So I gathered the flour, eggs, sugar, powdered sugar, butter & vanilla extract without another word and you smiled against my lips as we sampled frosting

 _You taste like a cupcake,_ you whispered & dipped in for another taste

 _Prove it,_ I urged

On a Friday we burnt the cake

 

 **4.** _Do you remember paper airplanes?_

Under the florescent lighting of the grocery store we could be any ordinary couple;

stars and stripes hidden under jackets as we test honeydew and pick the ripest tomatoes

 _You used to make them out of newspaper when I was sick,_ I say as you toss a box of tea into the cart

 _I tried to teach you but they ended up looking like mangled napkins,_ you continue, laughing as your left hand reaches out to take mine as we walk

_What'd you expect? I couldn't do much more than cough_

The hand holding mine flexes and squeezes - _They have kits for them now. They're not paper but._

On a snowy Wednesday we argue over instructions and labels, superglue and model airplane pieces

We hang the lopsided plane from the ceiling and it feels like a small victory

 

 **5.** There's a key pressed against my palm and your eyes are hopeful, blue oceans reflecting love and it's familiar, this

 _I found a place in Brooklyn, one bedroom, one bath and there's this window in the kitche-,_ you pause

 _-you used to hog all of the hot water,_ you're remembering

and it's a delicate process that comes to you like gentle waves on the good days and a tsunami on the bad days

We're wading in the shallow end today, I can tell by the softening of your eyes and the hand that takes the key back and strokes it - thumb against worn edges

 _Still do,_ I reply and swallow down the emotion that's threatening to spill over

 _We made a vow,_ you state & _yes_ we had when we were too young to understand that the world would hold us to it and test those words, expecting us to break

 _You said you were with me until the end of the line,_ I remind you

 _I loved you,_ you state, eyes damp and hand now covering mine, key clasped in a metal grip

_You did?_

You laugh and it's the only part of you that doesn't transfer well to paper - I spent too many years desperately trying to remember how your lips curved when you smiled (I couldn't find you then)  only to realize that there are some things that pencil and paper can't bring to life - that's my job

_'Course I did  
_

We'd loved and kept quiet about it, furtive glances and endless double dates where you'd smiled too hard and it never reached your eyes

_I...I felt the same way_

There is a warm weight on my chest that softly whispers - _I still do, don't you ever forget that_

And I won't, I wouldn't want to

_I won't. It's still you, Buck. It's still you  
_

We hold one another like it's the last time; like time isn't on our side and it isn't, never has been

We know this and we pretend that we don't

 _How about this key, hmm? Let's go check out our new place,_ I offer because I'm standing on the edge of breaking and this is your moment; your heart in my hand and I don't want to ever cause it pain

It's midnight on a Saturday, four weeks and too many years from the date that I first lost you (1943) when we move in


End file.
